


Helen the secretary

by multifandomcircusfreak



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Daddy Fitz, Fitzsimmons in later chapters, Gen, Helen the secretary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-12 07:37:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3349007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifandomcircusfreak/pseuds/multifandomcircusfreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over the years of his childhood, Leo Fitz had spent countless hours in his father's office. This is the story of how Fitz grew up alongside his dad's secretary, and how they became good friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Three years old

The first time Leo Fitz met Helen, he was three years old. This was back in the now-hazy time when his parents were still together and happy. There was conversation at the dinner table, his father still gave him piggy-back rides, and he could say the word ‘dada’ with just as much emotional ease as he could ‘mama’.

That specific day, Fitz’s mum had to go to her sister’s house, who was apparently having difficulty with her one year old daughter, who had taken to starting havock the moment she knew how to walk. Which left Fitz alone with his father, on a work day.

Malcolm Fitz still came into his office, right on time, dragging a three year old boy behind him. 

For the first hour of his day, he brought Leo into his office with him. The little boy played with Lego blocks while his father completed all the paperwork for his cases. Then Malcolm’s phone buzzed to tell him that he had to be somewhere else. 

Like always, he wasted no time. Minutes later, he appeared at the desk of his new secretary Helen, with his son still in tow.

“Helen, I’ve got a meeting for the rest of the day,” he announced. “Watch my son.”

“Y-yes sir,” she stuttered in response to his unanticipated request.

He nodded curtly and then was gone, leaving Leo in the care of the young woman. Once her boss had left the room, Helen turned to his young son, crouched down so that she was at his level, and said, ”I’m Helen. What’s your name?”

He shifted his weight shyly before answering, “Leo.” 

Helen grinned and tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “What a nice name!”

Leo made a face. “Well, mum named me Leopold but that name is icky.”

She laughed and put her right hand over her heart like a pledge. “I’ll call you Leo,” she promised. “Now your daddy has a meeting, so you’re stuck with me. What do you want to do?”

That was the very start of a friendship. Leo sat beside Helen behind her desk, playing with his Lego blocks again. He spent the afternoon being cooed at by the female office workers, spinning around on swivel chairs, and having Helen chat with him as she did her work. At one point, he stood up and toddled towards her catalog book.

“Helen?” he asked, peering up at her while she jotted things down. 

“Yeah, buddy?”  
“Can you teach me how to read?”

She turned around in her chair, surprised by his strange request. How old could this boy be? She guessed around three or four years old. Most children learned to read when they were six, and here he was, wanting her to teach him a major milestone in a corner of a Glasgow law firm. 

Still baffled, but unable to resist his cute face and pleading eyes, the secretary answered, “Um, alright,” and pulled out her color coded and alphabetised clientele list.

Helen pulled Leo onto her lap and placed the list in front of them, resembling a mother putting her child to bed with a story. She pointed to the first section. “This letter is A. It’s the first in our alphabet and makes the ‘ay’ or the ‘ah’ sound. Got it?”

Leo nodded enthusiastically, leading her to continue. “This next one is B. It makes the ‘buh’ sound. The one after that is C. It sounds like ‘cuh’ or ‘suh’, depending on the word it’s used in.”

Leo stared at her intently. “So…” Helen added. “Those are the first three of the twenty six letters of the alphabet. You put letters together to make words. Like this.”

She grabbed a piece of paper from the tidy stack on the left side of her desk and wrote in large, capital letters ‘CAB’.

“What does that say?” she asked. “I’ll give you a hint. The C is like ‘cuh’ and the A is like ‘ah’.”

Leo paused for a moment before answering, “Cuh-ah-buh.”

Helen smiled. “Now, what word do you know that sounds like that?”

“Cab!” he exclaimed enthusiastically. “It says cab!”

“Yes, it does! Aren’t you smart?” she praised before happily teaching him the next letter.

By the time Malcolm Fitz came back from his meeting at the end of the day to pick up his son, Leo knew the entire alphabet by heart - with the help of the song Helen taught him, both lowercase and capital letters, and approximately twelve words. His mum was surprised when she came home from her sister’s ordeal to find her three year old boy sitting on the floor of his room, reading a book about trains. A book she’d bought expecting that it only come off the shelf when he started school. 

That night, when Helen punched out her card - after staying late to finish up the work she’d neglected while playing teacher, she smiled, thinking about the strange child she’d met earlier. Little did she know that she was in fact the first person to realize that Leo Fitz was a genius.


	2. Five years old

The next time Fitz saw Helen, he was five. In this point of his life, his parents were on the verge of a divorce, and he knew it. He was a genius, after all. At home, the good thing was that the fighting had stopped. He didn’t get put in the middle of passive aggressive conversations anymore, or fall asleep to the sounds of his father yelling and the slams of drinks against tables. The bad thing was that in the place of loudness, there was silence.

In front of his eyes, Leo’s parents had turned into strangers. Conversation during dinner had been replaced by the exchange of ‘How was your day?’ ‘Good. You?’ ‘Good.’ and then nothing. When his dad kissed his mum’s cheek on his way to work, it was distanced. There were no more ‘I love you’’s or giggles. They looked like distant relatives being forced to interact for the sake of politeness.

-  
That morning, during another awkward breakfast, his fate for the day had been decided.

“Malcolm?” his mother had asked as she piled some scrambled eggs onto Leo’s plate.

His father sighed, finished pouring his coffee, and turned towards her in an exaggerated motion. “Yes, Mary?”

“It’s take-your-kid-to-work day.”

He stared at his wife, as if confused that she was actually asking him to take their son to work. In a hushed voice, he demanded, “Why can’t you just take him?”

“I took him last year! I would be fine taking him again, but he wants to go with you!”

Malcolm took a step back. After giving Mary an exasperated look, he finally agreed. 

Leo sat at the table, trying to ignore their hushed conversation, though he knew it was about him. In order to distract himself, he built a complicated structure out of the cutlery his mum had placed on the table. He interlocked the tongs of the forks so that they linked together. By the time his father returned to the dining room, he had incorporated three knives and twelve forks in his creation.

His parents walked in at the same time, immediately speaking over each other.

“Oh, Leo! What have you made there?” said his mother enthusiastically.

“Leopold, don’t play with the cutlery,” said his father sternly. 

They stared at each other, silently battling over whose parenting was superior, as had become the norm. Then, Malcolm simply stated, “Leopold, you’re coming to work with me today. Get ready.”  
“Really?” Leo exclaimed excitedly, before dashing off to get dressed after his father nodded. He was happy to get to spend time around his own dad, since that was becoming ever more rare, the way that he’d come home, only to immediately shut himself off in his office. Maybe this day would be different.  
-

Fitz walked into the office awkwardly, trailing behind his father like a shadow. His dad turned to him, and said, “Okay, I’m just going to find out what I have to do for the day, then we can do something together. How ‘bout I show you around?”

Leo nodded enthusiastically. It looked like he was making an effort. 

Malcolm walked off to his secretary’s desk. Helen smiled at Leo warmly when she saw him, and quickly rushed to stand up when she saw her boss. 

“Good morning, sir!” she said perkily. “I’ve got your monthly schedule right here. Color coded and time specified, just like you asked!”

“What have I got for today, Helen?” he asked dryly. 

At his words, the secretary produced some multi-colored papers from her desk and reviewed them diligently. “Nothing much, sir. A few read-throughs in prep for next week’s cases, but that’s quick. Today was scheduled to be a review day, so unless you’re set for some extra work, you’re free!”

Malcolm smiled and turned to Leo. “Okay, bud. Where do you want to go first? Break room, or-” his phone rang mid-sentence. “Hang on, I have to take this.” 

He put his cellphone to his ear. “Yes, this is Malcolm,” he answered, before trailing off into a series of 'yes, sir's and 'I understand, sir's. Finally the repetition stopped, but Leo didn't like what came in its place. 

"I was under the impression that that was next week.... No, I know.... Yes, I'll wait."

Leo didn't like that. Not one bit. His dad was going to leave him alone again, wasn't he? Sensing the opportunity, he sidled up to him and pulled at the hem of his jacket, trying to act cute. "Dad?" he said with tug of the fabric. "You're going with me today, right?"

Malcolm pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, pushing Leo off of him. "Leopold, can't you see I'm having a conversation?!"

"I thought you were on hold..." the boy replied meekly.

"Are you talking back to me?" he responded angrily, covering the mic of his phone with one hand. "This is my workplace, Leopold. Work comes first, and I can't have you causing trouble or being unruly. Sit with Helen until I tell you what to do."

Leo winced at his orders, and the use of his actual name, and rushed over to Helen. His father came off hold, and resumed his conversation until it finally ended with him saying "I'll be there in ten minutes, sir," before hanging up. Whatever hope Leo had deflated instantly.

"Bad news," he announced. "I've got a meeting. The council meeting, something about budgets?"

Helen looked slightly horrified. "I have that penciled in for next week."

"The CEO moved it to today. Just move some stuff around on my schedule to make it fit, Helen."

She looked ready to faint, but the secretary nodded. Due to his proximity, Leo could hear her murmuring under her breath. Something along the lines of, "Yes.... I'll do that.... All my hard work... Gone... Color-coded...." 

"How long will that take, dad?" Leo asked. 

"I don't know," he answered. "Maybe three hours, maybe all day." 

Helen barely stopped herself from squeaking at his words.

"I've got to go. Sorry kid."

Then, Malcolm was gone, along with Leo's hope, and Helen's perfect schedule.

She sighed. “I’ve got to redo it all…” Helen said solemnly, before looking over at him and smiling. “Long time, no see, kiddo. Have you got any toys to play with?”

He shook his head. 

“That’s okay. Want to help me remake this schedule? And tell me what you’ve been up to since I last saw you.”

“Sure!” he exclaimed, happy to be put to use. 

She pulled out an empty template as he rattled off about the last two years. Obviously he kept it mostly about school, since the things going on at home were a bit more private. “Ms. Randall, my teacher, doesn’t like me,” he informed the secretary as he highlighted different words, per her instructions.

“Really? Why not?”

“Because she can’t teach me!” he said loudly. 

“And why is that?” Helen asked, bemused. 

Leo laughed. “Because I know how to read!” he exclaimed proudly. “You taught me the alphabet and the sounds, so I learned the rest myself. Now Ms. Randall has nothing to teach me.”

The secretary stopped herself from gawking at the kid beside her. He was very very smart. She knew Malcolm Fitz well, having worked for him for about two years, and she was certain that he had no clue just how intelligent his son was.

“Really?” she asked, knowing full well that he was telling the truth. “Show me.”

He beamed at her, and pulled the old schedule closer to him. He read the first square. “Ahem. The Danver family case from two o’clock until four o’clock.” 

She checked the paper, and sure enough, it was word for word. “Wow! Great job!” 

He leaned in closer towards her, looking around like he didn’t want to be heard. “Can I tell you a secret?” he asked playfully.

“Yes,” she answered, matching his tone.

“My mum says that I might get moved up a grade, since there’s no point in me staying in this one,” Leo whispered. 

Helen grinned at the boy, but felt a little pang in her heart. “That’s great, Leo! But… Won’t you be a year ahead of all your friends?”

He sat back again, a strange look on his face. “I don’t have friends. And school bores me, so it’s a win-win.”

Helen opened her mouth to respond - no kid should have to go through that - but stopped herself, and smiled instead. “Hey, when did I tell you to stop color coding? Get back to work, slacker.”

The young boy giggled and obligingly began to resume his highlighting. 

That was how they spent the remainder of the day - working together to finish Helen’s secretarial duties, and chatting. Every time Leo looked at the clock, or seemed to think about how his dad still hadn’t come back, she would distract him.  
In the end, Malcolm came back at the end of the day. So, it was a day-long meeting after all. He spoke a curt apology about his lateness and took Leo away, and that was it. There was no make-up dinner or offers to bring him again the next day. Though it hadn’t been expected anyway.

***

Leo saw Helen once more soon after that. It was two weeks after Christmas, and she sat beside him in the courtroom while his parents got their divorce. Helen wondered, to this day, how he could be so calm. He only sat there, staring ahead blankly. She figured that he was in shock, but he looked so aware of what was happening.

When she was told to look after him earlier that morning, she’d expected that at one point or another she would have to carry him out of the room, or stop his tears, or _something._ It never happened. 

So, very quietly, she slipped her hand over his. He barely acknowledged her, and it wasn’t much, but he shouldn’t be alone. 

Helen didn’t realize it, but she was one of the only people who could see past Leo Fitz’s acts. The next person with this ability came along when he was seventeen, so for a while, she was the one of the two, the other being his mother. Helen failed even more to realize that she was also the only one who saw past the face he put on every time, without fail. She still is.


	3. Eight years old

By the time Leo was eight, his visits to the office were more frequent, and he had almost completely grown tired of them, to be quite honest. One weekend a month, that’s what his parents had decided when they got their divorce. He tried to forget that, even though he wouldn’t have wanted the drama anyway, he had been somewhat hurt by the fact that his dad hadn’t even _tried_ to bargain for more time with him. Besides, if he did get a little bit more time with his father, it probably wouldn’t be any use.

Last month, his dad had taken him camping. It had mainly consisted of Malcolm asking his son if he was too afraid to go down a certain trail, him trying to teach Leo how to set up a tent - which was pointless, considering he was quite good at reading instructions and had the tent up within five minutes - and them going on a long, tiring, and unenjoyable hike. Leo supposed his dad had good intentions. Though the amount of times he had been told to be a man was unpleasant.

Two months before, the sole weekend had been spent with a single game of catch - an experience where Leo had been hit in the stomach multiple times because his father apparently believed in learning through trial and error. “Catch, Leopold!” _wumph_ “You can do better than that!” _smack_ “Don’t be afraid of the ball!” _womp_ \- then Leo retreated to his room, and his dad to his home office.

He used to like coming to his dad’s building a lot more. It was exciting to see him work, especially when he didn’t have day-long meetings to run off to. That was before Leo started to get recognized for his intelligence. His mum told him that his school was considering moving him up a grade. To his dad, that was apparently a wonderful tool for deals. He started showing him more of the law firm, which Leo would have loved two years ago, but it came with a catch.

His dad would introduce him to business partners, but it was like he was showing off a trophy instead of his son. Leo’s IQ was mentioned more than his personality, his progress in school overshadowed details about the rest of his life, and every time he spoke, he knew that his words would either be used as a stepping stone for his father to continue the conversation the way he wanted it, or shut down.

At least Helen was still there. That was the only good bit about it.

Leo was sitting in a chair close to her desk, - _his_ chair, as it had become known - reading one of the books he’d stashed in the bookshelf beside him. It was a book about structural stability, which he had suddenly found very interesting after his mum bought him that Jenga set a week ago. 

“Flibbertigibbets!” Helen exclaimed, and he heard the banging of keys. 

“You alright, Helen?” Leo asked, leaning out from his chair to see her.

“Yes… Well, no.” He started walking up behind her to see the problem, as she continued. “Your father decided to try and make the office more tech friendly or whatever that means.”

“Hmm.”

“And he put in these computers, but I can’t make the darn thing work!”

“Want to me to take a look?” he offered.

“Yes,” she sat back in her chair, and crossed her arms. “But I warn you, it’s impossible.”

Within ten minutes, Leo had it all figured out.

He pointed to a little icon in one corner of the screen. “Click that button there to open a new document.”

“This one?” she asked, her mouse hovering over it.

“Yes, that one.”

She did as he instructed, and made a gasp of surprise when it did, in fact, work. “Aren’t you a little genius? Figuring all this out.”

He smiled bashfully when she ruffled his hair. “I’m just good with this stuff.”

“So… how do I make a schedule on this? There are so many buttons!”

“See that button right there? It’ll make a spreadsheet, and you can make schedules on that.”

It took twenty minutes of explaining and re-explaining, but she eventually made her first spreadsheet. After another half hour, she had made a sample schedule. Leo wanted to sit down from mental exhaustion, and he suddenly had a greater appreciation for how easily things came to him. 

“And now I save it, and exit, right?”

He stifled a sigh, as not to seem rude. “That’s right, Helen. You know how to save it, don’t you?”

Helen smiled at him with an expression that was equivalent to a _tsk tsk_. “You already explained that to me.” She smirked cockily as she pressed a couple buttons and held her arms out to display what she’d accomplished.

He surveyed her work, and after a few seconds, chuckled to himself. “You didn’t exit the page.”

“Yes I did!” she exclaimed, gesturing to the screen. “It’s gone!”

“No,” he corrected. “You just minimized it. That’s what the minimize button does.”

He tapped on the tab she’d just almost closed, and the secretary gasped like he’d just performed witchcraft when it reappeared. 

“What the -”

“You clicked this button - the minimize button. _This_ one is to exit the page.”

It took the majority of the day, but Helen finally understood the basics of the computer. Minutes before his dad came to get him, she wrapped a cookie up in a napkin and stuck it in his bag. 

“You deserve that cookie,” she praised. “Take it.” 

She ruffled his hair once more, before giving him a gentle push in the direction of his dad, who had just appeared from his office. He walked forward, but glanced back at her. “Goodnight, Helen!” he called back.

“Have a good night, you two!” she responded while she grabbed her own coat.


End file.
